New Start
by Crazed Vampire Dwaine
Summary: I suck at summaries: A teen that survived 10 years as an orphan on the streets is taken in by Chance and Jake. Abused when he was young the teen he reluctantly gives them his trust. What will happen? Read and find out. Accepting male OC's. Slash fic.


**Hello people out there! I wrote this simply because a writer in spired me to. Thank You Komamura's Son! Your story inspired me to do one of my own! Now onto the story!**

? POV

A fist connected with my face, and I was sent staggering backwards into a rusted old car. I could feel the blood trickling down my muzzle. The Kat above me snickered then kicked me in the ribs. He grabbed the front of my silver hoodie, jerked me up, and slammed me into the rusted car door.

"What did I do to you," I managed to rasp out?

"Ain't that cute, the orphan wants to know what he did. You know what you did you piece of shit," he said to no one in particular!

I winced at his words, and no I didn't know I had done. He pulled out a knife, and it wasn't like a little pocket knife, it was a knife made for skinning animals. It was sharp, very sharp, I could tell just from looking at the glint of the sun on the tip of it. Dammit.

"Hey, what's going on over there," a voice not very far away yelled?

The Kat looked at me them rammed the knife into my left shoulder! I screamed in pain! He turned and ran but not before giving me a look that said, 'Let THAT be a reminder, then he was gone. The knife was embedded deep into my shoulder, and the jagged ends of one the sides was cutting into what little muscle I had. I removed my black messenger bag from my shoulder carefully, making sure not to touch the blade.

A shadow passed over me, but all I could see was a silhouette thanks to the afternoon sun. A cloud passed over the sun and I was able to make out the kats features. He had cinnamon colored fur, forest green eyes, was wearing a blue jumpsuit, and a red cap. He looked me over, then he noticed my shoulder. I could hear him suck in a sharp breath. I can't say that I'm surprised, a teen with a bloodied nose, mouth, hoodie, and a knife sticking out of his shoulder would make anyone do that.

"Okay, are you hurt anywhere else," the Kat asked? Wait, what? I shook my head lightly, and he crouched down to where I sitting.

"Okay," he said again,"I live here and I'll be right back, my friend and I, we'll help you. Don't move."

Okay, now I'm officially confused. Why would a complete stranger want to help me? I'm only an orphan, as I have been for the last ten years. I waited maybe two minutes, before that Kat was back, but with another. He was bulkier then the other, he was a tiger tabby with yellow fur and brown stripes, blue eyes, and was wearing the same as the other Kat. I was offered a hand by the smaller tom and he helped me up. I could still walk but the big guy wasn't taking any chances. He hefted me up on his back as though I weighed nothing, then again I only weighed like seventy-eight pounds. He started walking, but I stopped him.

"My bag," I pointed to it with my good hand. The smaller one grabbed and carried it for me.

The pain was intense, my arm was pulsing, and it hurt every time. Due to it the world spun slightly. I closed my eyes for one minute, then the next I'm laying in a bed. My clothes were gone, but replaced with some blue, slightly baggy shirt, and shorts. The knife was gone too, and my shoulder was patched up! I put my had over the bandages and winced slightly. I looked around the room my with my head still on the pillow. The walls were colored beige, a wooden door stood to the right of the room, a dresser, closet, nightstand, and desk. A typical room.

The door opened slowly, and it revealed the two toms. They didn't speak at first so the room was plunged into an awkward silence.

"Than-

"Are y-"

We interrupted each other. Okay, how cliche can this get?

"Thank you for helping me after," I gestured to my shoulder, "this."

The cinnamon tom smiled at me and said, "No problem." The tabby cocked a small grin and waved it off.

"Oh, and by the way I'm Jake Clawson," the cinnamon tom said. Jake. Got it.

"And I'm Chance Furlong," the tabby finally spoke. Chance. Got it.

"Who are you," Jake asked me?

Under normal circumstances I wouldn't tell them who I was, but I felt like I could trust them. "My name is Jax."


End file.
